Or he could simply be honest and admit he wasn’t at all certain he might sit beside Cora at the high table and not give in to the urge to carry her off to bed once more. She’d likely toss another stool at him if he did that.
He enjoyed her temper.
Faolan grinned as he leaned over the neck of his horse. The animal was powerful, and it suited his mood. His cock was hardening again, and he didn’t try to master the impulse.
He’d come to terms with the fact that he was a beast a long time ago.
Cora was the thing that soothed him. Or perhaps it was better to say she was the warmth that drove the ice from his veins. He’d gone to the towers to take solace in the unknown. Noreen had soured his taste for refinement of any sort.
Especially ladies.
Cora was a curious blending of poise and passion. She might keep her composure while walking down the center hall of the McKay, as regal as a princess, and yet she’d stood up after being flung at his feet by the river and shook her fist at the storm as a mythical creature from some winter fable. She’d rekindled his desire for home and hearth with a simple meal and the demand for clean hands at her table.
Tonight, he’d seek her out again. It felt as essential as his next meal.
But first, he’d be worthy of her.
There was rain on the wind. Faolan rode headlong into it with his teeth bared. For the first time, he felt the need to excel in his new position. The memory of Cora sitting beside him at the high table burned in his mind. His mother had been driven out of the stronghold. Now he was laird. Justice had prevailed in the most unlikely of turns.
It would seem that evildoers did, in fact, reap what they sowed. For Noreen had been Malcolm’s death after all.
And now, Faolan was going to make very sure he was a laird worthy of the woman he’d taken as wife.
*
Faolan missed supper.
Cora realized she’d been holding her breath as she approached the hall, eager to see him and yet certain he’d figure out from her blushes that she’d been discussing him with Brynna.
Oh, the things ye learned…
Brynna had proven that Cora truly wasn’t as unbridled as so many claimed she was. At least so far as worldly knowledge went.
Ye mean frank knowledge…
Her cheeks began to heat. Cora pushed the topic aside and focused on the moment. Orla was waiting on her to begin the meal.
The laird’s table only had two of the younger captains sitting at it. But the tables running up and down the length of the hall were full to bursting. Retainers were crowded so tightly together, there would be some bruised elbows and ribs after the meal.
“Seems everyone wants a look at ye,” Brynna muttered.
Any man who was a Retainer had the right to take his meals in the hall, but many of them had wives and homes. Today they were here in force, and every single man turned to look toward Cora as she made her way to the high ground.
Her chair was pulled out for her, and Orla began the washing of hands with Cora. Conversation still hadn’t started back up as she dried her hands.
“The laird rode toward the village,” Brynna whispered next to Cora’s ear.
One of the captains stood and took command of the blessing. The maids began to carry out the food as conversations began once more. It was still hushed as the men ate and eyed her while chewing. Cora had taken too many meals to count at head tables, yet she struggled to remain poised and collected. Brynna stood behind her, acting as the perfect lady’s companion.
And the meal lasted forever.
By the end of it, Cora was certain she’d aged an entire year. Her belly was only half full, but she stood and left the hall.
But she didn’t get far. Waiting in the passageway were women who had come to have her decide issues that pertained to the female members of the clan. Debates over dowry portions and handfasting. Nothing so grand as money, but in the highlands, a pair of hens was cause for discord. Arguments over wages for girls who had served in houses in the village and an accusation of sour milk having been sold in the village market.
She didn’t climb the stairs to her chamber until the sun was going down.
Will he come then? To join ye?
Cora discovered herself grateful for the matters that had kept her busy for the afternoon, for her doubts hadn’t had the opportunity to prick at her.
Strange how she’d always raged against measuring herself by men’s standards, and now, she discovered herself very worried that Faolan wouldn’t consider her performance in bed to be something he’d be interested in sampling again.
Or when no one would be checking.
“Thank ye, Brynna.”
Brynna lowered herself before she left for the night. One floor down, the area was divided into four chambers. Cora had given one to Brynna when there was a small sleeping closet in the receiving room, which Noreen’s own companion had been expected to occupy. There were many who wanted a witness to the most intimate moments between a laird and wife. Such things assured there would be no grounds to be sent back to her father for failing to conceive when the husband had never bedded her.
Faolan wouldn’t lie.
But that doesn’t mean he’ll seek ye out…
She really should dismiss such doubts. Faolan had carried her from the hall because he was so eager to share her bed.
He’s had ye now… Men seek new conquests.
Cora couldn’t hide from that truth. She’d heard many, many things she shouldn’t have in the passageways of the Mackenzie stronghold. Without a mother to see to her being closeted, Cora had learned the conversation would flow so long as she was hidden.
Perhaps that had not been the wisest choice.
Now she recalled how often husbands snuck into the storerooms with other men’s wives. She’d heard the maids confiding in one another about the names of the fathers of their children.
Aye, well ye also saw that same look in Faolan’s eyes as he said he’d have ye…
Cora suddenly felt her spirits lift. That was true. She’d witnessed the gleam in the eyes of lovers as they met. The anticipation and the zeal with which they hurried away together.
“Tonight I will have ye, Cora, for no one will ever again have cause to doubt that ye are mine.”
He’d taken her like a lover.
Cora felt her checks warm only this time, she smiled and enjoyed it. She went to her bed but didn’t put the lanterns out.
*
Una watched the passageway.
The sun had set an hour ago. Which meant the time was coming close. Her patience paid off when there was a soft patter on the stone floor. The maid she’d left to watch for the laird was in stocking feet, so Faolan wouldn’t hear her running. She stopped at the end of the passageway and stretched her arm above her head to signal to Una.
“It’s time,” Una said to her companions.
One of the other women snapped her fingers at the two boys who slept in the bunks in the kitchen. They rolled over and pulled their plaids up and over their heads as they faced inward. Orla had set out fare for the laird and his men on the main worktable. Off to one side was a smaller workroom used during the day. Una and her companions went into it.
“Aye, it’s a fact the poor mistress looked exhausted,” Una exclaimed to one of the other women when she heard the men enter the main kitchen.
“Little wonder with how much blood there was on the sheet.”